


Silk, Strudel, and Cream

by GabShiba



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: F/M, Hans Landa - Freeform, Holocaust, Inglourious Basterds - Freeform, Love, Nazi, Oral Sex, Quentin Tarantino - Freeform, Romance, Sex, Vaginal Sex, World War II, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabShiba/pseuds/GabShiba
Summary: SS Colonel Hans Landa falls in love with British trainee spy Claire Rosewood, but he doesn't know that she is Jewish, nor does he know that she is a spy.
Relationships: Hans Landa/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. First Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> this story takes place 1 year prior to the events of "Inglourious Basterds"
> 
> playlist:  
> 1\. don't chase me around - robert corff  
> 2\. theme from "run for your life" - al hirt  
> 3\. time of the season - the zombies  
> 4\. apple blossom - the white stripes  
> 5\. incense and peppermints - strawberry alarm clock  
>   
> link:  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3UGAlhBYZSnUERAbquJoAi

Claire Rosewood, twenty-six, a trainee spy for British Intelligence, was packing her suitcase for her first ever assignment: go to Vienna, observe the people there, observe what the Nazis do, check out the city’s sights and sounds. Sure, it sounded like an exciting adventure, but if you were in Claire’s shoes, you’d probably be shitting bricks. Vienna in the year 1940 was a frightening place; SS officers capturing Jews; fear and uncertainty clouding the air; war planes flying overhead in the gray sky. Luckily, all Claire had to do was to take down notes, snap pictures with her camera, and then fly back home, intact and unscathed.

She locked her brown leather suitcase with a satisfying clink, and turned around to embrace her sobbing mother.

“Oh, mum, it’s going to be all right, don’t worry,” she reassured her.

“But you’re going to be where the Nazis are!” Mrs. Rosewood shrieked. “They’re going to kill you!”

“No, they won’t, and I’ll make sure of that, so please, _please_ stop your crying.” Claire wiped her mother’s tears away with a handkerchief. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay? Just in time for Lag B'Omer.”

She turned to her father, who was trying to hide his tears, but was failing miserably. “Oh, pa, not you too.” She pulled him close for a tight embrace before planting a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be all right, promise.”

Mr. Rosewood could do nothing but nod.

Then Claire looked at her little brother, Emmet, who wasn’t shedding a single tear, but instead, was quietly shuffling his feet on the floor. “G’bye, Cee. Happy trails.”

Claire knelt down to face him. She ruffled his short blonde hair and grinned. “You be a good boy now, okay? I won’t be here to play games with you, so you’ve got to look for other things to do.”

Emmet nodded and rubbed his eyes before hugging her neck. “I’ll miss you, Cee.”

“I’ll miss you too, Em,” Claire whispered, patting the little boy’s back.

Then she stood up, and took one last look at her family. There was mum and dad cradling each other, still sobbing, and there was Emmet, pursing his dry lips, trying to look tough and manly. Claire smiled, waved goodbye, and slipped out the front door, ready for her first assignment: Vienna.

For two whole weeks, she was going to stay in the city.

For two whole weeks, she was going to do her job.

For two whole weeks, she was going to observe the Nazis.

And for two whole weeks, she was going to pose as Claire Rose,

“An Anglican hairdresser from Chelsea, who was visiting Vienna to meet a friend.”

Well, let’s hope Claire doesn’t get herself into trouble; romantic, physical, or mental.


	2. Don't Chase Me Around

“Don’t chase me around, you’re bringing me down  
I don’t wanna play by your rules  
My life is my own, so leave me alone  
I don’t wanna be your fool.”  
\- “Don’t Chase Me Around”, Robert Corff

Claire’s first day in Vienna started off with a breakfast at Kleimann’s Cafe. She had an espresso, a ham and cheese toast, and a small plate of fruit. Just as expected, the coffee in Vienna was excellent; it was the right combination of sweet and bitter, and it gave off a terrific scent that easily wafted through the air. 

This aroma reached SS Colonel Hans Landa’s senses, and it made him look up from his book to inspect where this caffeine-induced scent originated. His deep, dark eyes scanned the entire cafe, eventually landing on his prime suspect: the girl in the oversized houndstooth coat. Claire.

Who sat only two tables away. 

Landa couldn’t help but admire her from afar. He wasn’t usually this susceptible to pretty women, but when he was, he could follow them everywhere. And I mean everywhere. 

So that’s what he did. 

Meanwhile, Claire was trying her best to act natural, for she felt the colonel’s eyes locked on her. She knew exactly who he was: “The Jew Hunter”, who had a nasty reputation for being able to sniff out Jews hiding in France.

Did he know that she was a Jew? 

Deep down, she was quaking with fear. His eyes were still on her. Why were his eyes still on her!!??

She slowly stood up and took her clutch bag, her heart racing with adrenaline. She left a few notes of cash on the table before striding through the cafe doors, glad that she was able to escape that uncomfortable situation.

Much to her dismay, however, she spotted the colonel exit the cafe a few seconds after she did. He was now trailing her, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. Just the thought of it sent shivers up her spine. She walked a bit faster and hailed a cab, desperate to hop in and speed away from the notorious “Jew Hunter”. 

Before the cab even took the opportunity to reach a full stop, Claire immediately clambered in and whispered to the driver, “Stadtpark, bitte! And step on it!”

She peered at the rearview mirror and caught sight of Hans Landa standing on the pavement with his hands in his coat pockets, a smug grin spread on his face.


	3. Stalker

The day after, Claire continued her journey around Vienna, taking pictures of the architecture, the various restaurants and bakeries, and from time to time, SS officers cuffing Jews and brusquely leading them to the backs of large trucks. Having to take snapshots of these scenes was a heart-breaking ordeal for Claire, but it was part of her job as a trainee spy, and she had to execute it perfectly. 

Sympathetic though she may have been, she was also grateful that Hans Landa wasn’t following her anymore. She hadn’t found him in Kleimann’s, thank God, nor did she see him passing by on a pavement or surveying her through a restaurant window. 

She was finally free from that hair-raising stare!

At least, she thought she was.

Landa had actually sent emissaries to spy on her and follow her wherever she went. I told you the colonel was relentless when it came to stalking pretty women. 

For the next few days, Claire travelled around Vienna with the false knowledge that “she was no longer being pursued by the Jew Hunter.” Well, boy, was she wrong! For every destination she visited, there was an emissary to inspect each and every one of her movements. 

Pretty soon, Landa memorized all the places that she visited on a daily basis: Kleimann’s, the post office, Schneider’s Bakery, some modest establishment called “Salatgarten”, the convenience store on Schulze Street, the deli on Kaiser Street, and the supermarket on Markovitz Street.

He also knew the hotel, room number, and level she stayed in: Konig Inn, room 1216, 12th floor.


	4. The Offer

“What's your name?  
Who's your daddy?  
Is he rich like me?  
Has he taken any time  
To show you what you need to live?”  
\- “Time of the Season”, The Zombies

On a cool Saturday morning, Claire dined at Kleimann’s to indulge in her favourite dish: apple strudel with cream. In the middle of her feast, however, Hans Landa suddenly entered the cafe, and the first person he laid eyes on was her. It had to be her. 

_Oh God, he’s back,_ Claire sighed wearily. 

He did not stop by the counter to order a drink, he made his way towards Claire’s table. Each loud step he took with his leather boots sent the young woman’s heart racing with fright. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, she repeated to herself. She kept her head down, her soft brown locks tumbling across her cheeks, shielding most of her face. 

“Good day, fraulein, do you mind if I take a seat?” Landa prodded her gently. 

Claire shook her head, which was still facing down at her plate. “No, go ahead.”

Landa nodded with an air of satisfaction and sat down. “Are you enjoying your strudel? Is the cream sweet enough? Or would you like me to ask the waiter to-”

“No, no,” Claire interrupted him. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Ah, good.” Landa nodded again. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Colonel Hans Landa of the SS.”

“Nice to meet you, Herr Landa, I’m Claire Rose.”

“You’re English?”

“Yes, I’m from London.”

“Oh, I’ve been there once. Wonderful place indeed! Although, I’m not really a big fan of your scones.”

There was a silence. Landa gazed at her as she chewed on her strudel. “But anyways, what brings you here?”

“I’m here to visit a friend.”

“And where does this friend of yours live?”

Claire held her breath. “That’s a bit of a personal question, don’t you think?”

“Ah, excuse me for my curiosity, Fraulein Rose. Being an SS Colonel has unfortunately made me an overly prying man.”

“I understand.” Claire nodded, quietly breathing a sigh of relief. 

There was another silence. Landa leaned forward. Claire was able to catch a whiff of his cologne. 

“Look, I won’t stroll around the bush, so - wait, is that the way you say it? Stroll around the bush?”

Claire grinned uneasily. “You mean _beat_ around the bush.”

“Yes! Thank you. I won’t beat around the bush, so I’ll be direct with you, fraulein: you are a beautiful woman, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

Claire nearly choked on her sandwich. “H-Herr Landa, are you flirting with me? Being of middle-age, aren’t you married?”

“I _was_ married; my wife died a few years ago. Lung cancer. She was a heavy smoker.”

“O-Oh, well, I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Landa shook his head. “It’s best if we move on from this depressing subject. I hope you haven’t forgotten my last question: can I get to know you better?”

His deep, piercing eyes stared right into hers, sending shivers up her spine. 

Shit, Claire thought. “Er…I’m sorry, but I think I’ll have to decline.”

“Of course, no problem, I’m not forcing you.” Landa flashed a charming smile. “But if you do change your mind,” He took out a calling card from his coat pocket and handed it to Claire. “Call me.”

She examined the card; “Standartenfuhrer Hans Landa” was embossed in gold against a plain white backdrop. “Then what happens?”

“I’ll take you to one of the best restaurants in town. Maybe we can squeeze in some sightseeing as well. And when I say ‘sightseeing’, I don’t mean the Hofburg or the Opera or the Cathedral. You’ve probably already been to those. I mean the alps, Kahlenberg Hill, Wienerwald...wait, how long will you be staying in Vienna?”

“One more week.”

Landa rubbed his hands together with glee. “Oooh, that’s a bingo! We have enough time left.”

“Er, that is, if I say _yes_.”

Landa nodded. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten, it’s all up to you.”

He smiled and stood up from his chair. He took his coat and hat, and picked up Claire’s hand to brush it with the lightest of kisses. Fortunately, Claire managed to keep a neutral expression the entire time.

“Auf wiedersehen, Fraulein Rose,” the colonel murmured. “I hope you’ll take the time to consider my offer.”

And with that, he made his exit, leaving Claire completely and utterly bewildered. 


	5. Incense and Peppermints

That night, all Claire could think about as she lay in bed was the colonel’s deep, inquisitive eyes. The way he gazed at her, the way she felt her cheeks get warm whenever he inched closer, the way his cologne smelled of incense and peppermints...

 _Stop it, Claire! He’s a Nazi, for God’s sake!_ she scolded herself. _Now go to sleep!_

She socked her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut, but her attempts at falling asleep remained unsuccessful, even after two hours. All she could think of was Hans Landa, the man who was in love with her.

Hans Landa.

The name itself was enough to send her rolling in bed with childish glee.

_Hans Landa!_

She couldn’t help it. She knew she was a jew and falling in love with a Nazi was the most preposterous idea a jew could ever have, but she just couldn’t help it. Landa’s charm had left a lasting effect on her heart.

_...What if I call him?_

She grabbed her coat and pulled out the card that Landa had given her. “Standartenfuhrer Hans Landa,” it read. “Tel: 01-571-0199”. She bent over and inhaled its scent, hoping to catch a whiff of the colonel’s cologne once more-

_Stop it, Claire!_

A tiny voice inside of her yelled.

_This is completely unprofessional! What kind of a spy are you!?_

She shook her head and threw the card aside, surprised at what she had just done. _Sniffing Landa’s card! What’s gotten into you!?_

If she wanted to complete this mission quickly and effortlessly, then she had to steer clear of any romances or unnecessary flings. _Don’t let your guard down! He’s the “Jew Hunter”, remember? He’s a dangerous man._

She snatched the card and swiftly tore it up into shreds, before letting it flutter into a trash can.

The next morning, she went to get a blueberry bagel at Kleimann’s, when she found herself desperately searching the tables for Hans Landa.

 _Oh my God,_ she thought. _You’re going insane._

She whirled back around and strode to the counter to order her blueberry bagel, trying her best to erase Landa’s devilish smirk from her memory.

“Einen Blaubeer Bagel, bitte,” she told the cashier. “Oh, und ein espresso.”

“Das sind drei Schilling,” the cashier replied as she jotted down Claire’s order and handed it to the barista.

Claired nodded and fished out three banknotes from her purse.

“Danke schon.” the cashier smiled at her courteously, then looked up and yelled, “NACHSTE!”

Claire went to the side of the counter to collect her bagel and coffee, and upon inspecting the dark brown drink, she couldn’t help but remember the penetrating colour of Landa’s eyes, which were also the exact same shade of brown.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to see him again.

Later that night, since she had made the mistake of tearing up Landa’s calling card, she had to piece it back together again in order to successfully obtain his number. It took some time, along with a whole wad of tape and superglue, but it was all worth it in the end.

The number: 01-571-0199

 _Wait, are you seriously going to say yes? To a Nazi like him!?_ Claire asked herself. She paced in circles around her hotel room. _Well…yeah, maybe I should._

She repeated it with a firm nod. _Yeah. Maybe I should._

_After all, Landa did offer to show me the natural sights and sounds of Vienna, and learning about those is part of my job. All I have to do is to keep things professional between me and him. Yes, professional. No romance, absolutely not._

She took a deep breath, reached for the telephone, and proceeded to dial the colonel’s number.

“This is stupid, this is stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered as she watched the rotary dial spin.


	6. Strudel with Cream

"Come and sit with me and talk awhile  
Let me see your pretty little smile  
Put your troubles in a little pile  
And I will sort them out for you."  
\- "Apple Blossom", The White Stripes

“Hallo? Oberst Hans Landa spricht,” uttered a familiar voice on the other end.

Claire was too stunned to speak. She was trembling like a leaf.

“Hallo? Wer ist das?” Landa pressed. 

Claire finally opened her mouth and said, “He-Hello, Herr Landa, this is Claire.”

“Oh, Fraulein Rose, it’s a pleasure to hear your sweet voice!” Landa exclaimed. “Well? Have you changed your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wunderbar!” The colonel was bouncing on his heels. “You made the right choice, fraulein.”

“You said you were going to take me to a restaurant. Where is it, and what is it called?”

“Wolfgang’s, on Kurst Street. I assure you, their food is fabelhaft. Oh, and they serve strudel with cream. You like that, don’t you?”

Landa lowered his voice when he delivered that last sentence. 

Claire flushed, and she felt grateful that he couldn’t see her. “Er, yes, I do like it…”

“Gut!” Landa clapped. “What hotel are you staying at?”

“The Konig Inn on Bauer Street.”

“All right, I’ll pick you up in an hour. Is that okay?”

Claire’s heart was racing, and she could only utter a single word: “Yes.”

As soon as she hung up the phone, images of Landa’s eyes began to appear in her mind again.

_No, no, no! There’s no time for that! You have to decide on your outfit!_

After ten minutes, she chose to wear the following ensemble: a white blouse, a long gray skirt, a stylish green hat, a baggy green coat, black pumps, and a pair of pearl earrings, along with a silver wristwatch. 

Landa arrived after exactly an hour, driving an impressive black Benz, donning a sleek dinner jacket and newly-polished dress shoes. He greeted her with a quick kiss on both cheeks, which had startled Claire a bit, but she recovered in no time. 

Claire felt quite uncomfortable sitting beside him in the passenger seat. He didn’t hesitate to ask questions about her family and personal life.

“Which borough do you and your family live in?”

“Chelsea.”

“No wonder you have such great taste in fashion! Tell me, do you have any siblings?”

“A younger brother.”

“A boyfriend?”

“Not anymore…we broke up two weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Landa did well in masking his pleasure. “Do you work?”

“Yes, I’m, uh, a hairdresser.”

“Ah, no wonder your hair looks flawless. Just the right amount of curls.” Landa grinned at her. 

Claire didn't know how to respond to this, so she just grinned back. “Thank you.”

“Are you an Anglican?”

“Yes,” she lied, her heart racing once more. “I follow the Church of England.”

“Tell me, what separates Catholics from Anglicans?”

“Er, well…” She had no choice but to give a detailed explanation on what separated the former from the latter, much to Colonel Landa’s satisfaction. 

She desperately prayed that this car ride would cease to last any longer. 

At the restaurant, Landa and Claire took their seats at a small round table. Landa ordered a glass of white wine and a plate of oysters, and Claire ordered a scotch and a soda, with a plate of steak frites, and a side of apple strudel with cream. 

She was the first to initiate the conversation. “You said you were going to take me sightseeing… to the alps, if I remember correctly?”

“Yes, _and_ Kahlenberg Hill, _and_ Wienerwald.”

“Forgive me for asking, but _why?_ Why are you doing this?”

“It’s my way of welcoming you to this beautiful town.”

Landa kept his gaze locked on Claire’s face as he slowly slurped on his oyster. 

_Shit. Bedroom eyes._ Claire began to panic. _Just eat your steak and ignore them._

She quickly picked up her fork and knife and started to slice her steak, avoiding Landa’s gaze.

“So, er,” She cleared her throat. “Are we going to the alps tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll drive you there.” In a snap of a finger, Landa’s ‘bedroom eyes’ reverted back to their usual inquisitive appearance. “You can take pictures and admire the scenery. And on Tuesday, we’re off to Kahlenberg, then on Wednesday, Wienerwald. Thursday and Friday, we can stroll around the city. Then on Saturday, we’ll bid our farewells. For one whole week, I’ll be your local tour guide. For free. No payment.”

“Really? Y-You’ll do that?” Claire was incredulous. “But aren’t you an SS colonel? Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Oh, it can wait,” Landa spoke nonchalantly. “For one whole week, my job as SS colonel can wait, because _you’re_ here. _I'll_ be taking care of _you."_


	7. Verdict

The next morning, according to plan, he drove Claire to the alps in his big black Benz. Claire was covered up in a white coat with black accents, Landa wore a black leather coat, with his signature military hat. The scenery was beautiful, Claire took pictures, and was enjoying the fresh air as it whipped her cheeks.

“I knew you were going to love it.” Landa smiled. 

After about an hour and a half, they arrived at a humble village seated at the very bottom of the alps. Landa helped Claire out of the car, and they both strolled around the village, admiring the view. Claire took more pictures as Landa shared his vast knowledge on the village’s history.

“It was established in 1642 by a group of pilgrims. As the years passed, more houses, huts, and infrastructures rose, and then things like electricity, plumbing, telephones, and refrigerators were introduced. Once these inventions spread, the village ceased to remain its old traditional self. In a span of six months, nearly all the houses, shops, and other establishments contained such modern technology. It’s too bad, I should’ve seen this place before electricity became a fad.”

“Wow, you sure are an expert," Claire remarked. "You've been here before?"

"Thrice, each visit more fruitful than the last."

At this point, they reached a thick field of grass.

Landa lay down with his hands behind his head, nodded at Claire, and patted the empty space beside him. "Come! Don't be shy."

Claire laid down on the grass and watched the clouds. With Colonel Landa just a few inches away from her, she was basking in sunshine and romantic bliss. The scent of his cologne remained the only thing on her mind, as her eyes began to droop, and her breathing grew slow and steady. 

The day after, they sat atop Kahlenberg Hill, enjoying the view of the city, watching the sun as it gradually dipped down into the horizon. 

“Are you loving it, Fraulein Rose?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” Landa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad.”

Claire was taken aback by this, and she recoiled a little bit, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red. 

Landa noticed, and he quickly apologized. “Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just...you see, I...I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He had said it. He had actually said it. How was Claire supposed to respond!? Her mouth hung slightly open. The colonel was in love with her! With  _ her!  _

At that moment, she wanted so badly to lunge forward and kiss him, but she had to stop herself. Those deep brown eyes were staring right into hers again.

“Er, I’m sorry, I-I have to go,” Claire muttered as she stood up, her voice cracking slightly. “I need some time to think.”

Landa nodded. “Of course, I understand. Take all the time you need.”

Claire walked away and rode a cab back to her hotel.

She paced around her room, occasionally skipping, pondering on her verdict. _Should I tell him that I love him too?_ _Yes or no, yes or no?_

_ No! Absolutely no romance, remember!? You told that to yourself a few nights ago! _

_ Yeah, but- _

_ No buts! _

_ I can’t believe you’re actually considering dating this guy! What is wrong with you!? _

Claire stopped pacing, shook her head, and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“You are a spy,” she spoke firmly.

_ So, I guess it’s a no then...  _


	8. Confessions by the Lake

The next day, as promised, Landa brought her to Wienerwald. The car ride was quite awkward this time; Claire spoke less, much to Landa’s disappointment. But she sure was a sight to behold - she wore a green silk dress with matching d’Orsay pumps, and a lovely pair of pearl earrings from Cartier.

“Aw, come on, Fraulein Rose, don’t be so nervous!” Landa chuckled. “It is only I. Blurt out whatever comes to your mind, I don’t care. Just let me hear your voice!”

There was a silence.

He sighed. “It’s about yesterday, isn’t it?”

Claire nodded.

“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I beg you forget about it. I knew I shouldn’t have professed my feelings to you in the first place. It was foolish of me.”

Landa tried to laugh his disappointment away, but this only made Claire more nervous.

After what seemed like hours of driving, they finally arrived at Wienerwald, one of Vienna’s most renowned forests. Landa has already been here before, so he led her through the pathways. Claire took pictures of the trees, the birds, and some wild animals. As they walked around, Claire could sense that Landa was holding himself back from something, but what was it? 

They soon grew tired, and they sat by a hidden lake, secluded from the other tourists. After a few minutes of watching the fish swim, Landa suddenly turned to her and said, “Oh, I can’t take it anymore, mein liebe.”

Claire just stared at him, dumbstruck. “W-What?”

“I’ve been waiting for so long, I can’t take it anymore.” Landa gazed at her earnestly. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you.” His face drew closer to hers, and their noses touched. “It’s getting difficult for me to restrain myself. Oh, dearest Claire, tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you love me too.”

The colonel’s faint scent of incense and peppermints clouded her judgement, and before she knew it, she was kissing him with a passion that she never knew existed within her, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs rubbing slowly against his.

“I love you too, Hans,” she sighed.

At the sound of this wonderful revelation, Landa grinned broadly from ear to ear. "Oh, you don't know how glad I am to hear that."

He leaned in for another passionate kiss. Claire was feeling absolutely delirious. She involuntarily wrapped her legs around his waist, anxious for a heated session of lovemaking.

"Mmm, excited, I see," Landa whispered. "All right, let's do it, you naughty, naughty girl. But hold on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride."

He proceeded to unbuckle his leather belt. Claire lifted up the hem of her green silk dress and threw her underwear aside, urging to colonel to enter her. She had a playful glint in her eyes. Landa bent over her body, caressing her thighs and breasts, before sinking his hard member deep inside her moist clit. He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure, as he thrust his hips back and forth, receiving cries and gasps from Claire, who held onto his neck, amazed at his strength, drive, and vigor. 

“Ah!” she whimpered. “H-Hans, slow down!”

He slowed his movements almost immediately, and took on a concerned look. “Why, are you okay?"

“Oh, Hans, I just-” she panted. “I just didn’t know you’d be this good.”

Landa flashed her a naughty smirk. “Thank you, mein liebe.”

He pulled away from her body and stood up with a dominant air, clutching his erection. “Now get down on your knees, or be punished.”


	9. Sex, Luxury, and Entertainment

Hans Landa met up with her at the Konig Inn the next day. Their sexual frustrations were, at this point, non-existent. Upon seeing him, Claire greeted him with a warm embrace, and whispered softly into his ear, “Hello, Hans.”  
“Hello, mein liebe,” he replied. “I only have one thing to say about yesterday.”  
Claire grinned playfully. “What?”  
He planted a kiss on the back of her hand. “That was an uber bingo.”  
They locked arms, and together they ambled out of the hotel lobby in a whimsical mood.

For two days, they took the time to stroll around the city and marvel at its bustling metropolitan sights. They dined at the finest wine and dine restaurants, shopped at the most prestigious establishments, and viewed all the latest films at the best movie theatres. 

Landa spoiled Claire with enviable, sophisticated outfits from Chanel and Hermes, splendid strings of diamonds and pearls from Tiffany’s and Harry Winston, and classy cosmetics from Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubinstein.

Claire, of course, enjoyed her time with him. Not only was the sex good, but so were his gentlemanly manners. He never faltered at showcasing his charm, sweet chivalry, and monogamous devotion. If it pleased Claire, then he would do it. 

This was how their brief love affair lasted: a delightful combination of sex, luxury, and entertainment.


	10. The Farewell

On Saturday, it was time for Claire to leave. Landa escorted her to the Vienna South Station, and they bade their farewells, Landa in a stylish fedora and a brown trench coat, Claire in a similar hat and a burgundy suit with shoulder pads. 

“Goodbye, Hans.” Claire gave him a melancholic smile. “I truly will miss you.”

“Oh, darling Claire.” Landa leaned forward and kissed her, taking in the sentimentality of the atmosphere. “I’ll never forget you...you’re a fine lady, what a good wife you would be.”

She breathed in his familiar scent, before opening her mouth and saying, “Hans, are you asking for my hand in marriage?”

Landa shrugged mysteriously. “Well, I have dwelt on that prospect a couple of times.”

Claire shook her head. “But I’m afraid you will be unhappy.”

Landa let out a roar of laughter. “ _Unhappy!_ Ha! Nonsense, my dear! Why would you say that?”

“Because, Hans,” Claire gingerly stepped onto the train. Its doors were about to close. “I am a Jew.”

Surprisingly, Landa was not the least bit furious.

The porter promptly slammed the doors shut as she waved goodbye, and he blew sharply on his whistle, signaling that all systems were a-go.

He calmly watched as the train chugged forward and gathered speed, taking his beloved Claire along with it. _My dearest Claire._

Yes, he was a little shocked by the sudden declaration of her true religion, but not furious. Oh, no, no, not at all. 

He harbored no animosity towards the Jews of England. The only Jews he disliked were the Jews hiding in France, simply because he was _assigned_ to dislike them, he was _assigned_ to eliminate them.

Was he _assigned_ to dislike the Jews of _England?_ Was he _assigned_ to eliminate them as well?

No. 


End file.
